


Today

by asmilewaiting



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Cecil Has Tentacles, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Post-Coital Cuddling, Romance, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 17:41:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2476799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asmilewaiting/pseuds/asmilewaiting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Today is stupid." Cecil huffs, flopping down onto Earl where he had been filling out paperwork on their couch. The scoutmaster probably could have heard Cecil stomping from a mile away if he had tried (literally - focused long-distance hearing is a skill that must be honed by all scoutmasters) so he is already lifting his paperwork out of the way when Cecil drops into his lap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Today

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So I haven't posted fandom related writing in years, much less this fandom, but Cecearl has eaten my life, and I have been meaning to contribute for ages. I wrote this before Capital Campaign, so Earl's position as sous chef isn't referenced. It's also part of a bigger universe that may or may not ever see the light of day. Mostly it's HELP (Happy Earl in Lots of Porn) that I wrote for someone I used to be friends with. Hope you enjoy.

"Today is stupid." Cecil huffs, flopping down onto Earl where he had been filling out paperwork on their couch. The scoutmaster probably could have heard Cecil stomping from a mile away if he had tried (literally - focused long-distance hearing is a skill that must be honed by all scoutmasters) so he is already lifting his paperwork out of the way when Cecil drops into his lap. Carefully shuffling all the papers together neatly, he sets them to one side and immediately slips deceivingly delicate fingers into his lover's pale hair. Cecil sighs softly into Earl's thighs from his face-down position, already half sliding off the couch. 

"C'mon baby, lay down properly." With a gentle nudge and careful tug, Cecil is moving to instead curl up onto the cushions with his face pressed to Earl's stomach instead. Earl frowns slightly and gently strokes the other man's cheek where his jaw is clenched tight with frustration, or possibly anger. 

"Management?" 

A derisive snort and incoherent mumble are all Cecil replies with as he grumpily nuzzles his face further into Earl's stomach. A non-sentient cactus could probably detect how little the radio host wants to discuss whatever happened to make today 'stupid,' so Earl wisely let's it go, for now. 

He continues alternating between stroking along the visible skin of Cecil's face to the delicate crest of his ear and his by this point rather ruffled hair, and stays silent. 

Gradually, he feels the other man begin to relax, and eventually Earl begins to hum a quiet fireside song that they are both fond of. When the song reaches its end for the third time, Earl glances down to find violet eyes watching him. 

"Feeling better?" The redhead asks quietly, and it inspires a small quirk on Cecil's lips as he hums in assent.

Cecil starts to sit up but can't quite make it, flailing adorable and awkward, and he pouts until Earl supports his back with one arm so he can shift into the other man's lap. He presses a dry kiss to Earl's lips as he wraps his arms loosely around his shoulders, before leaning his head there, tucked against the soft skin of Earl's neck. 

"Mmwashorrday...?" The words are pressed into his skin and tickle, and Earl can't help the laugh the escapes his lips. His neck is very sensitive, which Cecil knows. 

"My day was fine. Nothing particularly horrifying happened, and only two scouts were mortally wounded at the meeting today, so there's that. New management issues again?" He broaches the subject with a tone that clearly implies he isn't pushing, but if Earl knows Cecil, all the signs are pointing towards him wanting to talk now. (And Earl knows the man in his arms better than he knows his scoutmaster's handbook.)

A sigh. "That's good to hear. And yes. Keeping a manager should not be as difficult as it has been since Strex, seriously! I changed their water three times a day as usual and everything! And yet they get annoyed over the slightest misstep! It's like being an intern again, Earl! I have actual interns for that! Urgh!" 

It’s probably a little more than just that, but Earl doesn’t really need to know the details to understand the way it is affecting his lover. At least it wasn't a fatality at the station. Cecil thinks those days are stupid, too, but they tend to leave Earl faced less with angry ranting and more with depressed silence. The latter is much more difficult to watch, and even more difficult to coax Cecil out of. 

Having voiced his frustration seems to have released some of the tension in the radio host, and he begins to nuzzle at Earl's neck with more purpose, pressing gentle dry kisses there just to incite the shivers Earl can't prevent. 

"Nn, Cecil. We should...dinner?" 

"Nope." 

It is a good argument, Earl concedes, and lets his neck tilt back to give Cecil more space. Dinner later.

Cecil is thorough in everything he does, be it reporting, getting revenge, or taking Earl apart piece by piece until he is satisfied with the results. 

"Mmm, bird, bed, let's go." Cecil murmurs into Earl's ear. He makes no move to get up though. The scoutmaster laughs. 

"Oh, it's one of those nights then, is it?" He presses an affectionate kiss to Cecil's cheek as he gently hooks one arm under the other man's thighs and shifts to the edge of the couch, preparing to stand. 

"Oh, scoutmaster, you're so strong though~!" Cecil coos in falsetto, but he ruins the effect by dissolving into giggles at the end and pressing his nose to Earl's collarbone as the other man stands. Earl rolls his eyes. Cecil isn't small, but he isn't big either, and Earl has no problems carrying him, especially when it amuses the other man so much. Earl will pretty much do anything to make Cecil smile.

Including slipping his free hand up under Cecil's shirt to tickle him where the skin is petal-thin over his ribs, making the man in his arms shriek and wiggle as his lover deposits him onto their bed. Earl grins and lets himself fall over the slighter man. Continuing with his relentless tickling, he easily ignores protests and avoids half-hearted kicks, until Cecil is out of breath and tears of mirth are beginning to trickle down into his hairline. Only then does Earl press a kiss to those panting lips to taste the last of the giggles with his tongue. 

Cecil always tastes of whatever flavor coffee they currently have stocked at the radio station, and Earl can’t quite place it today, but he likes it. Cecil kisses back with fervor as he gets his breath back, his arms sliding around the other man’s shoulders to pull him closer. The prone man whines when the other breaks the kiss, only to purr when he nuzzles at his chest and slides his hands up under the t-shirt, pushing it up to kiss the revealed skin until he can push it completely over Cecil’s head, leaving his hair adorably tousled. He looks like a delicious mess, tattoos glowing slightly where they curl over his arms and shoulders, eyes half-lidded and his desire visibly straining against his soft corduroy pants. Earl can’t help but admire him until Cecil lets out an impatient huff and shifts so he can tackle the barrier of the scout’s clothing.

Not one to be one-upped, the other man makes fast work of Earl’s own button down, remnants of the uniform he had mostly removed when he came home. Ever-considerate, Cecil pushes up on one arm so he can toss the shirt in the direction of a nearby chair so it won’t get trampled on. 

“You do realize that won’t help with the wrinkles, right?” 

Cecil rolls his eyes, “Psshh, you know you’re gonna iron it anyway,” and drags his hand slowly down Earl’s bared chest, tracing a path between his freckles and effectively distracting him from his (admittedly fictitious) complaint. “Mmm…”

With a smirk, Cecil shifts and shoves Earl onto his back, crawling over him and replacing his hand with his mouth. Earl’s eyes flutter closed as those lips find a nipple, mouthing gently, teasingly, before shifting to the other. His fingers follow the lines of Earl’s ribs with just enough pressure not to tickle. 

“Cecil…”

“Mmm?” The smirk is back, and Cecil crosses his arms over the other man’s chest, resting his chin on them. 

“You wanna stay up there, you better be more distracting.”

A raised eyebrow. “Oh, is that a challenge, scoutmaster darling?” 

“You know it i---hng!” His reply is cut off by the sharpest of teeth digging into his collarbone. Earl’s fingers clench in the sheets in an effort not to grab Cecil’s hair and keep him there. God, those teeth. And now they are on his nipple again, this time sharp and painfully good, exactly the way Cecil knows will drive Earl out of his mind. 

Nimble fingers are no longer tracing his ribs, instead they are slipping the button free on Earl’s trousers, pulling down the zipper and brushing against where he is swollen and hot. It never takes long, not with the way Cecil knows how to push his buttons, and Cecil’s fingers curl and rub until Earl is gasping at the contrasting pain-pleasure of teeth and fingers, his cock is pushing up against the elastic of his underwear. Cecil bites at the skin over Earl’s heart and pulls back. His mouth is open, still a hint of a smirk but mostly all mischief as he bares his lust-sharpened teeth at the other man.

“You want my mouth on your cock, baby?” The smile is predatory and Earl can’t help the way his eyes close and his head tilts back as his hips push up toward the other man. Those teeth are dangerous, and Earl lives for danger. 

Cecil takes his non-answer for the answer it is, and drags his teeth down over Earls abs, pulling away only long enough to pull the last garments off of the other man, impatiently shoving them down and down, much further than Cecil should be able to reach, and Earl knows Cecil has briefly let one of his tentacles slide free of his skin. He feels it briefly rub against his calf before it dissolves again, and Earl stops paying attention because Cecil’s clever tongue is tracing circles on the delicate skin right next to where Earl wants it. 

Cecil has pretty diverse tastes in bed, Earl has found. He likes just about everything, and will try anything once (twice, if he likes it). But after so many years together, Earl knows how to anticipate and fulfill all of his lover’s needs, without a word spoken. 

On days where the other is feeling overwhelmed by the sheer weight of existence, he likes Earl to take control. He likes being wrapped up, tied up, made to feel the vastness of Earl’s love for him until he can’t think of anything but that. On days that he is tired, but only from the little annoyances of day to day life, he likes to curl up with Earl and make love until they can barely keep their eyes open, sharing breath more than kisses with foreheads pressed together and shared pleasure making life worth living. On happy days, he likes to be silly, creative; to try new things, to surprise Earl with a new outfit or a new toy, or something he has been wanting to try recently. 

On angry days, when Cecil comes home too frustrated to speak, Cecil likes to be the one in control. 

So Earl is not at all surprised when Cecil pulls away with a sharp glint in his eyes, and murmurs huskily: “Beg me.”

No matter how many times he’s done this, no matter how much he anticipates it, that first order always makes Earl’s cheeks flush a dark red, in a way he knows contrasts with his hair and freckles, making him feel extraordinarily self-conscious. It only makes Cecil’s grin sharper, his eyes practically burning with possessive lust. 

Earl whimpers, and his eyes drop closed, fingers once again clenched tight in the sheets. Even though it’s Cecil, he always struggles with this, and he knows Cecil absolutely loves it. Everything in Earl’s training has prepared him to stay strong and disciplined in the face of even the most harrowing challenges. This is showing weakness, and openly admitting to weakness, and it makes him feel more vulnerable than anything else he’s ever done. Being tied up is nothing, not compared to looking into Cecil’s eyes as the man watches him with those darkening violet eyes, exposing his heart and soul for him, and trusting – knowing – that Cecil will only cradle it gently in his delicate hands. There will be no hurt, no dismissive sighs or derisive laughter, not with Cecil. Earl knows that. 

Cecil wants to own him - not to feel powerful, but because he loves Earl like nothing else in this world. He wants to see Earl in ways no one else has ever wanted to see him. He wants to be the only one who knows every side of Earl, including the vulnerable, soft parts of him that he keeps hidden from the world. 

Earl knows it is Cecil’s way of reaffirming with himself that no matter what might happen outside of this bed, here – here, he is home. Here he doesn’t need to worry about doing the wrong thing. He is the one in control, the one who provides exactly what is needed. What no one else _can_ provide.

Earl opens his eyes, and reaches up with shaking hands to brush the sweat-damp hair from Cecil’s dark gaze, and then drops the back down, this time with his arms prone on either side of his head. Their eyes meet. He lets everything go.

“Lover, I need you. I need you. I need your hands, your mouth, your words, your tongue, your teeth. Oh, Cecil, please, please, please—“ It starts as a whisper but ends on a moan when that beautifully talented mouth silences him temporarily with a deep and hungry kiss. 

He murmurs into Earl’s ear: “More,” before he begins a teasing trail of kisses and teeth down the red-haired man’s torso. 

“You, you, you-- ‘re everything, I can’t.” Anticipation makes his voice catch. “Cecil touch me, please please don’t stop, don’t ever stop. Oh, your hands are so amazing, how did I ever get so lucky, oh baby please don’t stop, please don’t stop.” The mantra continues, becoming more and more incoherent the closer Cecil comes to the goal, and dissolves into a repetitive plea of his lover’s name by the time Cecil has wrapped his hand around Earl’s shaft. 

“Oh, baby, you’re so ready for me, aren’t you? Look at that. Gorgeous.” Those violet eyes flicker from where his paler fingers contrast with the deep red of Earl’s arousal, to the darker bronze of Earl’s own eyes, before he shifts up and engulfs him in his mouth. 

Cecil knows exactly how to get to Earl, taking him so deep into his throat that he’s almost positive Cecil is going to choke, but he never does. It’s hot and wet and then on the slide up, Cecil uses those teeth, sharp pricks of carefully, carefully controlled pain immediately soothed by softer lips and all the sensations are a tangle in Earl’s head and he can’t focus, can barely manage to keep his hands where he knows they should stay, when he wants nothing more than to thread them through ash-grey hair and use it to keep his grip on reality. Time spins away from him until all he knows is the sensation of falling, falling, falling into an endless spiral of heat and pleasure.

And then Cecil pulls away. 

Earl can’t help but moan in distress, and Cecil soothes him with a murmur and a hand wrapped loosely around him, moving in a slow rhythm that the other man can’t decide is too little or just enough. Earl forces his eyes open, vision slightly blurry for a moment as he tries to focus on Cecil’s face. His third eye has opened and he is licking his lips and he is breathtakingly beautiful when he smiles. 

“So lovely, Early bird. You taste so good for me.” The grip on his cock tightens, and a thumb slides over the head, teasing the tip where the scout knows he must be dripping with desire, already so close to the edge. But Cecil knows his limits, and Earl knows the other man isn’t even close to finished with him. Despite this, he moans and can’t help but tilt his hips into the hold. Cecil’s hand speeds up. 

And Earl is past the point of no return, lost in the way Cecil’s eyes watch him.

“Oh baby, look at that, you’re getting so wet for me, you’re so ready to come, it’s so close you can just taste it can’t you baby?” Earl whines in response, gasping out Cecil’s name and he knows somewhere in the back of his mind that maybe he should feel awkward about how far gone he is already, just from a simple blowjob, but his entire focus is on Cecil, a fog over all his thoughts. Cecil, and how he can please Cecil, and what Cecil needs. Nothing else matters but this moment. 

“You’re gonna be so good for me, aren’t you bird? So good. Spread your legs darling, let me see you.” 

There is no hesitation: he parts his thighs and lifts his hips for the man above him, shamelessly displaying his most vulnerable self for the man he loves. He whimpers, “Please.” 

Cecil’s hand leaves his cock, but Earl barely notices, too focused on the sensation of those gentle hands pushing his thighs up and out, and he vaguely notes that he’s going to be feeling that later, and it will be glorious. 

Cecil is nuzzling his face between the scoutmaster’s thighs, inhaling the musk and pheromones with a purr. Earl is so hot, so gorgeous here, Cecil can barely focus as he presses open-mouthed kisses to the base of that heavy cock, to the delicate skin of his balls, lower. Earl has freckles here, and for some reason that makes Cecil’s heart swell with overwhelming love and protectiveness, and he kisses each one on the way to his current goal. 

There is nothing tentative in the way Cecil rims him, dragging his tongue in spiraling circles around the tight pink bud, pressing a sucking kiss at the center before starting over again. Earl is a mess, his thighs are trembling, held open only by the delicate press of those hands, and one of his own hands is fisted against his lips, teeth leaving marks in pale skin because if he doesn’t do something he might just scream, and they didn’t put up any silencing charms tonight. 

Cecil’s eyes are closed, but he doesn’t need them to see Earl, not anymore. Saliva damp skin gives easily when he finally ceases teasing and presses his tongue deep inside, taking his lover apart from the inside out. When he adds a finger, the sound the other man makes is absolutely beautiful.

At this point, Cecil’s own trousers are absolutely driving him crazy, but he’d rather not pull away from Earl right now. It takes some maneuvering and a feat of balance, but he has extra limbs for whatever reason, so why not use them? He manages to grab the bottle of lube from the box under the bed while he’s at it, dropping it next to them before he lets the tentacles slip back out of existence. They are a pain to keep track of, and he’d much rather focus completely on the man in his arms. 

The man in his arms who is currently incoherent and trembling and so very ready to be taken. Sliding his finger out and making quick use of the lube, Cecil replaces it with two, gently coaxing Earl’s body open as he leans up to kiss him. 

The kiss is deep and wet and Earl is so overwhelmed he can barely manage any sort of technique, but Cecil doesn’t mind. He loves that he can take apart this man who can’t be moved by anything else, with only fingers and lips. He loves that Earl lets him. 

And Earl loves that Cecil can never stay quiet for long. “Oh Earl, you are so, so perfect, so perfect for me dearheart. Are you ready?” 

Earl’s hand reaches up, grasping Cecil by the back of the neck and holding him there while pleasure-blurred eyes shine up at him. “Fuck me, Cecil, please.” His lips quirk slightly, and Cecil almost growls in response because Earl rarely uses profanity and when he does, gods above, there is nothing hotter. Possessive hunger surges up again in Cecil and he moves with precision and speed, coating his own shaft in slick and resting his body over Earl’s, weight on one forearm so he can guide himself inside. 

The first push inside is slow, the feeling of Earl’s body giving way for him incomparable. Those strong arms wrap themselves around his torso, and those kiss swollen lips curve upward in bliss. Cecil just can’t not kiss him as he settles, and takes a moment to kiss the breath out of his lover while they both adjust. 

As always, it starts slow and steady, the push and pull of two lovers who know each other’s bodies so well they don’t need to work to find the perfect rhythm. But then Cecil takes it up a notch, nailing Earl’s prostate on every second push, and Earl can’t contain himself any longer.  
He moans, loud and long and all various iterations of “Cecil, so good,” and “All-powerful gods!” and “Oh, oh, oh Spire, don’t stop,” and the fair-haired man loses himself in the rhythm and sounds and the wonder that he can’t help but feel, every. Single. Time. 

There is no one in control here. Not anymore. They move together like one being, perfectly in synch. Their mouths find each other, teeth nip at lips and neck and shoulder and ears, sweat drops slide down smooth skin and defined muscles. Cecil’s hips are slapping against Earl’s thighs with an almost vulgar noise, and Cecil pulls away slightly so he can spread those thighs wider, watch the way his fingers contrast with that pale, pale skin, sure to leave bruises. Watch the way Earl’s body accepts him, again and again, as if he belongs there. His thoughts overflow, dropping from his lips quiet and sweet and dark and hungry. 

“Mine. Earl, you’re mine, you’re mine and I love you and I’ll never, never, never let you go, never-“ He reaches down and wraps a hand around the other man’s straining cock, stroking with fast precision exactly the way he knows Earl likes. 

Earl comes hard, stars searing bright behind his eyelids. Those words, in that voice, and those fingers, and that sweet, sweet invasion and all the things Earl feels for the man in his arms – everything overwhelms him and the orgasm takes him like a riptide, pulling him down down down.

He is vaguely aware of Cecil coming inside him, his hips stilling suddenly, panting breaths against his chest, fingers digging deep into the flesh of Earl’s thighs. Oh, the bruises will be beautiful: the thoughts drifts past, slowly like a current as he catches his breath, pulls his emotions back into himself, feels like floating. Oh…

Cecil is gone briefly, but then he is back and he is gently wiping Earl’s skin with a soft cloth, caressing his body gently, soothingly, as he does so. He mentions something about… water? Earl is smiling at him, slightly dazed, eyes glassy and lids heavy. “Mmm…?”

A fond sigh. An arm supporting his back. “Drink this.” So he does. The water flows cool and wet and he hadn’t even noticed he was thirsty, but he is grateful that Cecil did. He nuzzles Cecil’s neck and purrs affection into his skin. He hears Cecil laugh, quietly. 

“I love you, too. Let’s rest for a while. But then, dinner! You’ll never let me forget it if I let us skip a meal.” 

Earl nods, agreeing. Then Cecil is curling up around him, and there are no more thoughts, only warmth and contentment.  
Cecil traces patterns and constellations between the freckles on Earl’s arm, draped over him. He smiles.

Today is a good day.


End file.
